


Harry Potter and the One Ring

by Skarabrae_stone



Series: Harry Potter and the One Ring [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Temeraire - Naomi Novik, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - 19th Century, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Gen, Magic, Mixed-Up Middle Earth Geography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-21 22:19:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9569225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skarabrae_stone/pseuds/Skarabrae_stone
Summary: Harry Potter is assigned to Captain William Laurence's crew and the dragon Temeraire. Starting out as a lowly ensign, he soon finds out that he is a wizard. With the aid of Gandalf the Grey and his friends among the Aerial Corp, he soon finds out he has a bigger part to play in the War against Sauron.





	1. A Conversation with Captain Laurence

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a very strange dream combining the Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, and Temeraire worlds. I got to thinking about how the combination of these worlds would work, and started writing this fic. I've since lost interest, but I may come back and add bits and bobs to it at some point.

Harry Potter was as surprised as anyone else when Captain Laurence enlisted him for Temeraire’s crew. As a runaway orphan with no connections, or even many friends at the covert, he’d expected to have to spend quite some time working his way up before anyone considered him worthy of being assigned to a dragon—let alone Temeraire, the hero of the recent battle against the Enemy. Captain Laurence, he knew, was a real blue-blood, son of Lord Allendale—the sort of person the Dursleys would have loved to boast about inviting to tea. This made him doubly nervous—there was no reason for the Captain, or anyone else on the crew, to like him any more than the Dursleys had.  


The other members of the crew didn’t give him much idea of what to expect. Granby, the first lieutenant, seemed nice enough, though rumor said he had a temper. The head of the ground crew, a dwarf named Gimli, spoke with a broad Erebor brogue and carried an axe with him at all times; he also seemed to spend most of his time with Legolas Greenleaf, an elven midshipman. Two of the other ensigns—Hermione Granger and Peregrin Took—were of very good families, and Emily Roland, the last ensign, was the daughter of Admiral Roland herself. Harry felt rather outranked, and kept to himself as much as possible.  


He was cleaning harness—“T’ Captain’s a real stickler for t’ harness,” Gimli had warned him, “so ef there’s so much as a speck o’ dirt on that leather, there’ll be Mordor t’pay, understand?” when a shadow fell across him.  


“So,” said an unfamiliar voice, “this is my new ensign.”  


Harry scrambled to his feet as he saw the captain’s bars on the uniform of the man leaning over him. He’d only seen the man once before—in Admiral Roland’s office, when he’d been assigned—but he wasn’t likely to forget the face of William Laurence. “Sir,” he said, and made a clumsy salute.  


“At ease, Potter,” said the Captain. “We’ll be assigned soon, and I like to get to know my crewmen before we engage.”  


He does? Harry thought. He nervously flattened his bangs. “Yes, sir,” he said, for lack of anything better to say.  


Laurence scrutinized him for a moment. “You’re a runaway, the Admiral tells me.”  


“Yes, sir.” Would the captain remove him from the crew for that? Surely he’d known before he took him on….  


“I was a runaway, too,” said Laurence casually.  


Harry’s mouth dropped open. “You… you what? Sir,” he added quickly.  


“Oh, yes. I wanted to join the war effort, and my father didn’t approve. I ran off and joined the navy when I was just your age.” A look of pain crossed the captain’s face, quickly replaced with a careful composure. “He didn’t take it well, I’m afraid. Now that I’m attached to the Aerial Corp, I doubt he’ll ever speak to me again.”  


“That sounds like my aunt and uncle,” Harry blurted. “They always said—” he stopped himself. If there was one thing he’d learned from the Dursleys, it was that adults didn’t like it when children aired their own opinions. And even in the fairly lax atmosphere of the Corp, it didn’t do to go babbling to your superiors as though they were friends.  


Laurence gave him another piercing look. “Yes? What did they say?”  


“Well, they said that… that…” He looked at the ground. “They said I’d be a good-for-nothing layabout, like my father.”  


“Did you know your father?” the captain asked, gently.  


Harry shook his head. “He and Mum died in a—a carriage accident, when I was a baby. I don’t know anything about them, really. The Dursleys—they didn’t like me to ask questions.” He hesitated. “That’s where I got the scar.”  


“Scar?”  


Harry pulled back his bangs, revealing the scar that forked across his forehead like a bolt of lightning. He’d never really understood how a carriage accident could make such an odd shape, but that was another thing the Dursleys hadn’t wanted to discuss.  


“And the others?” asked Laurence.  


For a moment, all Harry could do was gape at him. “How did you—”  


“Em—Roland—saw your back when you were bathing.” Laurence looked a little embarrassed. “I don’t normally encourage tale-telling, but… well. This was important.”  


Harry nodded. From the few interactions he’d had with Emily, this didn’t really surprise him. “My uncle used to hit me,” he said eventually, trying to keep his voice casual. “To beat the strangeness out of me, he said. I… things sometimes happened around me that… were hard to explain. He thought—I suppose he thought I did it on purpose.”  


“Strange things?” asked Laurence. “Like what?”  


He looked at the ground again. So far, the captain had been very kind to him, but what would he do if he knew the truth? If he knew that Harry was really some kind of… freak?  


“Come, lad. You can tell me.” Laurence bent down, so that his blue eyes were staring straight into Harry’s green ones. “What kind of strange things?”  


“I… there was this time,” said Harry in a rush, “that I turned my teacher’s wig blue. I don’t know how it happened, or why, but Uncle Vernon locked me in the cupboard for three months as punishment. And I sort of accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin when we were at the Royal Managerie—the glass just—vanished. I didn’t do it on purpose—I swear I didn’t—but—”  


Laurence was looking at him strangely. “Thank you for telling me this, Potter,” he said. “I… there is someone I need to talk to, I think. I’m afraid I must take my leave for the moment.”  


“I’m not—you’re not booting me out, are you?” Harry asked desperately. “I swear I’m not mad, I swear I won’t be any trouble to you if you keep me on—sir.”  


“Of course not,” said Laurence crisply. “You’ve given me no reason to think ill of you. But, Potter, I believe there may be something about you—that needs looking into. You needn’t worry. You are part of Temeraire’s crew, now, and as long as you perform your duties satisfactorily, you will remain with us.” He smiled, and put a hand on Harry’s thin shoulder. “Good day to you, Potter.”  


“Good day, sir,” said Harry, and stood staring anxiously after him as he walked out of sight.


	2. The Auror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets Nymphadora Tonks. Befuddlement ensues.

“Celestials are the very best,” Hermione said importantly. “I’ve read all about them. In China, only the emperor is allowed to have a Celestial as a companion.”

“I like Longwings,” said Emily, sticking out her chin in a manner that Harry was already learning to recognize as the precursor to a fight.

Hermione looked shocked. “But Celestials are supposed to be incredibly smart, and they have the best conformation of any dragon species. The Chinese—”  


“Longwings can spit poison,” Emily interrupted. “ _And _they’re fast.”  
__

“Didn’t Temeraire blow up an entire fleet of ships at the Battle of Dover?” asked Harry, too interested to remember to keep quiet.  


“Yes,” Emily conceded. “But that doesn’t—Uh-oh. Look sharp, you lot, here comes the Captain.” She pointed, and they all turned to see the neat blonde figure entering the other side of Temeraire’s clearing, a hundred yards away.  


“He won’t want us,” predicted Pippin, who, at fifteen, was the oldest—and, being a hobbit, also the shortest—of them. “Captains never have much to do with the ensigns.”  


“This one does,” Emily muttered darkly. “Just you wait, one of us will have had our neck-cloth on wrong again, or something.”  


“I thought you liked him?” Harry asked, at the same time that Hermione demanded, “Who’s got their neck-cloth on wrong?”  


Emily shot her a glare. “’Course I do, and none of your business.” This last was delivered in a whisper, as Captain Lawrence was now within hearing range, and appeared to be making his way directly toward them after all.  


Harry flattened his bangs nervously. After their conversation the other day, he had a nasty feeling that Laurence was coming to talk to him. Why, oh why had he told the captain all those things? He’d gotten so good at _not _talking about any of it—at keeping his—oddities—under control, never letting anyone close enough to see. Laurence had seemed so sympathetic that he’d let his guard down.  
__

“Potter,” Laurence called, and Harry jumped.  


“Sir?”  


“I’m not going to eat you, boy,” the captain said in a kindly tone. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”  


Harry glanced back at the other ensigns. Surely this wasn’t normal? Hermione looked worried, as though she thought she might be in trouble too. Pippin shrugged, and Emily made a just-get-on-with-it sort of face.  


“Come on, Potter, let’s not dally.”  


“Sorry, sir.” Harry hurried after him as Laurence nodded to the others and turned on his heel. He almost had to run to keep up with the captain’s long strides. “Am I in trouble, sir?” he asked. _Might as well know what I’m in for _.  
__

Laurence looked down at him, apparently in surprise. “Of course not. I told you, there’s someone I want you to meet.”  


“Who? Sir.”  


The captain shook his head, grinning. “Anyone ever tell you you ask too many questions, Potter?”  


It felt as though a stone had suddenly dropped into the pit of his stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs on the way. It took a moment before Harry got enough breath to answer, “Yes, sir. They have.” _No matter what it was, or how seldom I asked, it was always one too many. Always _.  
__

Laurence stopped abruptly, swinging around to look at him. “I’m sorry, Potter,” he said quietly. “That was careless of me.”  


“It’s alright, sir.” To his horror, Harry felt a prickle in his eyes, and ducked his head quickly to hide it.  


The captain laid a warm hand on his back, just for a second, then just as quickly removed it. “Let’s get on,” he said, and strode ahead, giving Harry time to wipe his eyes before catching up.  


The visitor was waiting for them in Admiral Roland’s office. She was a woman in her early twenties, with short, spiky, _bright pink _hair and a cheerful, heart-shaped face. Her clothes were just as odd as her hair. Instead of breeches, she wore something like a seaman’s trousers, only looser and made of a soft, shimmery material that billowed out when she moved. She also appeared to be wearing a waistcoat with no shirt beneath it, and long, sleeveless robes over everything else. Harry wondered whether she was what Aunt Petunia had referred to as a “loose woman”. She wasn’t wearing rouge like the ladies he’d seen on the streets of London sometimes, but perhaps the ones in Scotland didn’t bother.  
__

“Laurence!” the woman called as they entered. “Good to see you again!” She bounced forward, knocking a paperweight off the desk. “And this must be young Henry.”  


“It’s Harry, actually,” said Harry, too surprised to be polite. “Harry Potter.”  


The woman actually started backward, knocking something else off the admiral’s desk. “Good lord, not _the _Harry Potter?”  
__

“Really, Tonks,” said Admiral Roland’s voice from behind her. “Do try to watch what you’re doing. That ink bottle was nearly full.”  


Harry, who hadn’t realized that the admiral was sitting at her desk, jumped as badly as Tonks, though luckily the only thing for him to knock into was the doorframe.  


“Is that right?” demanded Tonks, ignoring the admiral. “You’re really him?”  


“Er—my name really is Harry Potter, if that’s what you mean,” said Harry, rubbing his elbow.  


“The Harry Potter I’m talking about should have a scar on his forehead,” Tonks said, staring at him in a way that Harry found distinctly uncomfortable. “A lightning-shaped scar.”  


“Go on and show her, lad,” said Laurence encouragingly.  


Harry hesitated, then pushed aside his bangs.  


Tonks gasped. “It is you,” she said, sounding awed. “We’ve been looking for you for ages.” She turned to Admiral Roland. “Why didn’t you tell us you’d found Harry Potter?”  


“You didn’t tell us you were looking for him!” the admiral snapped.  


“Er—I don’t mean to be rude,” said Harry, feeling more and more bewildered, “but—who exactly are you?”  


“True, I’ve done an awful job of introducing myself, haven’t I? Nymphadora Tonks, at your service, but please call me Tonks.” She bowed and flashed him a bright smile. “I’m an Auror, currently attached to the Muggle Aerial Corp.”  


This did not clear much up. Harry cast a quick glance at Captain Laurence and Admiral Roland, and caught them exchanging exasperated looks. 

“And—and what exactly is an Auror?” he ventured. He was probably asking too many questions again, but Tonks did not seem like the sort of person who stood on ceremony.  


“Tonks is a wizard, Potter,” said Admiral Roland. “She’s one of the wizards who are skilled in fighting the Dark Arts, and she is helping us in our battle against Sauron.”  


Tonks nodded enthusiastically. “Wotcher.”  


This was becoming more and more confusing. Harry took a deep breath. “I don’t understand.”  


“Don’t you know?” Tonks asked in some surprise. “You’re a wizard, of course!”  


“What?”  


Laurence broke in, frowning. “I thought you hadn’t determined that yet, Tonks.”  


“Well, of course he’s a wizard!” the woman exclaimed. “He’s _Harry Potter _. I mean, his parents were some of the best wizards of their age! They nearly defeated the Necromancer! I mean, the Elves must have a hundred different ballads about “The Godric’s Hollow Five.”  
__

“Five?”  


“Well, of course there were your parents, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Bilbo Baggins.” She paused, looking at him with a concerned frown. “Didn’t anyone tell you all this? About their defeat of the dragon Smaug, and how they and Dumbledore convinced the White Council to attack the stronghold of the Necromancer?”  


“No,” said Harry. “The Dursleys didn’t—I don’t know anything about them. Who are—Bilbo Buggins and—and them?”  


“Baggins.” Tonks was now beginning to look rather horrified. “You mean you’ve never met your _godfather _?”  
__

“I didn’t know I had one.”  


“Do you mean to say,” said Tonks, voice rising, “that you don’t know anything about—about _anything _?”  
__

Harry felt that this was going a bit far. “I know _some _things,” he said, a little defensively. “I can do—you know, math, and so forth.”  
__

“I mean about our world! Your world! Your _parents’ _world.” She looked around helplessly at Admiral Roland and Captain Lawrence, both of whom were looking as thoroughly out of their depth as Harry felt. “ _None _of you know about the Potters?”  
____

The other three shook their heads, and Tonks slumped back against the admiral’s desk, rubbing her forehead with a sigh. Her hair, Harry was interested to note, was slowly turning dark purple. “I didn’t expect this,” she said in a low, worried tone. “They told me I was interviewing _Henry Proctor _, for pity’s sake.” She glanced up at Harry. “Look, I don’t suppose I’m really the right one to tell you this, but you’ve got to know… but it’s—it’s a bit of a long story.”  
__

She glanced around at the others. “Why don’t we all sit down?” she suggested. “Let me draw up a few chairs.” And, before anyone could react, she pulled a thin piece of wood from her pocket, waved it in the air, and suddenly—Harry had no idea how—three chairs had fallen out of the air in front of them.  


Laurence and Harry merely stared at them, the former horrified at this display of impertinence, the latter simply amazed at his first sight of magic.  


Admiral Roland cleared her throat. “Do sit down,” she said, sounding more amused than affronted. The others sat.  


Now that Tonks was no longer leaning on the desk, Harry could see a smashed ink bottle oozing black liquid all over the floor near where she had been standing. Tonks apparently noticed too, for she waved the stick again, and the pieces of broken glass flew together to reform the ink bottle, which landed on the desk with a thud. Another wave, and the spilled ink returned to the bottle.  


Admiral Roland made a quick movement of her head, as though she had almost jumped back but had stopped herself just in time. “Close your mouth, Potter,” she said tartly. “It’s only magic.”  


Apparently oblivious to the obvious discomfort of the non-wizards, Tonks leaned back in her chair and stared meditatively at the ceiling. “Well, I’d better start at the beginning.” She took a deep breath. “All right. I’ve only been told this, mind; I was too young the first time around—anyway. I assume you know who You-Know-Who is?”  


“Who?”  


“Sauron,” Laurence supplied. “The wizards don’t like to speak his name.”  


“Oh.”  


“You know who he is?” Tonks prodded.  


Harry nodded. “He took over Mordor after the Revolution, fifty years ago,” he said. “Now he’s calling himself Emperor, and trying to take over the West.”  


“Precisely. What you apparently _don’t _know—and I still can hardly believe that you don’t—is that your parents, Harry, came very close to defeating him twelve years ago. That was when they convinced the White Council—which was a council of wizards and elves, led by Saruman the White—we’ll get to him in a minute—they convinced the White Council to attack the stronghold of the Necromancer in Mirkwood.”  
__

“That’s the Ardennes to you,” put in Admiral Roland. “They changed the name after the Necromancer was thrown out.”  


“Right,” said Tonks. “Anyway, they attacked the fortress and freed the prisoners who were still—alive—and destroyed the place. But the Necromancer got away. Meanwhile, Bilbo and the Dwarves—there were Dwarves involved, long story—had gone to try to kill off Smaug, because he was an old ally of You-Know-Who’s—”  


“Who?”  


“A dragon,” explained Laurence. “The last of the Great Dragons, or so we hope.”  


“I thought we liked dragons, sir?”  


Admiral Roland smiled grimly. “Not these ones. They were too powerful—and too greedy, and they were servants of Morgoth, once upon a time. Smaug killed most of the dwarves of Erebor and took their mountain for himself. Among other things.”  


“I see,” said Harry, though he was still rather muddled. “Sir.”  


“Go on, Tonks.”  


Tonks pulled a pipe from somewhere beneath her robes, lit it with the magic stick, and blew a puff of purple smoke. “Well,” she continued, “they did manage to kill off Smaug, and fought the Battle of the Five Armies, and won—barely. But they hadn’t really defeated the Necromancer, only driven him off. And two years later, a year after you’d been born, he came. You-Know-Who. I suppose he was angry at being driven out of Mirkwood—”  


“I thought it was the Necromancer who was in Mirkwood?” Harry interrupted, confused.  


“The Necromancer was You-Know-Who,” explained Tonks, exhaling a green cloud. “They just didn’t know it at the time. Anyway, he found them in Godric’s Hollow, and he… he killed them.” She sighed deeply. “It was… terrible. I’ve known Sirius and Remus for—well—ever, and I don’t think they’ve ever really gotten over it. Anyway… then he went after you, Harry. He tried to kill you—but something went wrong. The spell backfired, and he was… well, not destroyed, but weakened—a lot. And he still doesn’t have his old strength—not like it was. He’s gathering it again now, of course.” Another puff on the pipe, this time producing lilac smoke.  


“So among wizards, Harry Potter, you’re… quite, quite famous,” she finished. “A hero, in fact.” She grinned. “No pressure.”  


Harry rubbed his forehead, trying to make sense of this. He’d known about wizards, of course, but he’d always thought of them as… well, old. Old men with beards, like the picture of Gandalf the Grey he’d once seen in a newspaper before Uncle Vernon snatched it away. It had never occurred to him that _he _could be one. If he could do magic, why had Dudley always been able to kick him around like a ball? If he had once defeated—sort of—the most powerful necromancer in the world, why hadn’t he been able to turn the Dursleys into bats when they’d gone to lock him in the cupboard?  
__

“I think there must be some mistake,” he said quietly. “I mean, I can’t be a—a _wizard _.”  
__

“No?” Tonks raised her eyebrows. “Never felt like you were different from everyone else? Never made odd things happen when you were angry, or scared?”  


Harry remembered the blue wig, the boa constrictor… and suddenly, felt a whole lot better about things. He looked up to find both Laurence and Tonks grinning at him. Harry couldn’t help it. He grinned back.


	3. Wizards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tonks provides more information about the Wizarding world, and interviews Hermione.

“So what happened to the White Council?” asked Harry. He, Laurence, and Tonks were walking back to the clearing; the wizard had decided to interview the other ensigns as long as she was there. 

Tonks sighed. “It disbanded, right after your parents were murdered. They found out that Saruman had betrayed them.”

“Betrayed who?”

“Your parents. The spells of the White Council should have protected them from You-Know-Who, and they would have—except that Saruman was secretly working for him. It was Dumbledore who found out.”

“Who’s he?”

“Gandalf the Grey,” Laurence explained. “The Aurors call him Dumbledore, the Elves call him Mithrandir—”

“And Muggles call him Gandalf,” Tonks finished. “Saruman tried to trap him in the tower of Orthanc—”

“The tower where he lived,” said Laurence, before Harry could ask.

“Right, and he got away, and warned the others. So now Saruman is an enemy, too, but luckily he has yet to cross the Rhine, so we don’t have to worry about him just yet.”

“We’ll have to worry about him soon, if the Prussians don’t take a stand against his Orcs before it’s too late,” Laurence predicted.

“True enough.” Tonks looked around as they entered the clearing. “My, this is big.”

“Tonks!” Temeraire’s head reared up above them, his ruff raised in excitement. “Laurence, why did not you tell me she was coming?”

“I didn’t know myself, until an hour ago,” Laurence answered, laughing. “Come, greet her properly; where are your manners?”

The dragon lowered his head to look Tonks in the eye. “I am very pleased to see you, Auror Tonks,” he said formally. 

“And I you, my friend.” She rested her hand against his jaw and smiled up at him, with an ease that Harry rarely saw between any but a captain and their beast. “How are you keeping?”

“Oh, well enough,” said Temeraire, “only we’ve had no action for almost a month now, and Laurence tells me that there was a great battle in Prussia only a week ago, but we were not called for.” Then, apparently trying to make the best of it, he added, “but of course, we cannot be everywhere at once, and I suppose they do not _really _need us in Rohan, or they would have called for us.”  
__

“I’m sure they will need you all to fight very soon,” Tonks comforted. “And when they do call for your formation, you can be sure that all the training you have done will stand you in good stead against the Enemy.”  


Temeraire preened. “Of course, I am sure that we can defeat him quite easily,” he said confidently. “Laurence will not let the Orcs win, I am sure.”  


Laurence cleared his throat. “My dear, I was hoping that Tonks could meet with our other new ensign,” he said. “Do you know where Mr. Gimli is?”  


“I believe he is at supper with Lieutenant Greenleaf,” answered Temeraire, “But Granger should be here any moment, if you would care to wait.”  


“Oh really?” Laurence’s voice suddenly became exceedingly dry. “And why is that?”  


“Well, she has agreed to read one of my mathematics books to me,” said Temeraire, sounding a little sheepish. “Took and Roland are not very interested in such things, you know, Laurence, but Granger was telling me that she has a fondness for the subject! And, Laurence, she even knows some _calculus _!”  
__

The dragon’s eyes were shining with enthusiasm. Harry, looking at Laurence, caught a slight twist of the mouth that suggested he liked math about as much as Harry did.  


“That is excellent news, my dear,” he said, after a moment. “Perhaps I shall assign Granger to read to you every day, if you wish it.”  


“Oh, that would be wonderful! But—” Temeraire’s ruff flattened, and he peered down at Laurence anxiously—“you will still read to me, also, won’t you, Laurence?”  


“Of course, my dear.”  


Temeraire breathed a sigh of relief that nearly knocked Harry over. “That is alright then,” he said happily. “And here comes Granger!”  


Hermione was indeed hurrying down the path, holding a very thick book to her chest as though worried someone would steal it. She stopped short when she saw the three of them. “Oh! Captain Laurence, I—I hope you don’t—Temeraire asked me to bring him his _Principia Mathematica _, and I thought—”  
__

“That’s quite all right, Granger,” said Laurence smoothly. “I am delighted that you have offered to read with Temeraire. You have a gift for mathematics, he tells me.”  


Hermione ducked her head in embarrassment. “I enjoy it, sir.”  


“Very good.” Laurence looked around for Tonks. “Granger, this is Nymphadora Tonks--”  


“Laurence,” said Tonks in a warning tone.  


“—who prefers to be known by her surname only,” Laurence finished. “She is an Auror.”  


“An Auror!” Hermione’s eyes glowed. “You’re a wizard, ma’am?”  


“Just Tonks, please. And yes, I am a wizard assigned to the Muggle Aerial Corp, for the present.” She glanced at Laurence, then said, “I come around here every year or so, to interview the new ensigns. I’d like to ask you a few questions, if I may.”  


Hermione looked nervous. “Questions?”  


“Nothing to be worried about, Granger,” said Laurence calmly. “Potter and I are going to take a turn about the clearing so the two of you can talk. Tonks?”  


Tonks turned her brilliant smile on Hermione. “Let’s sit down, shall we?”

“How are you feeling, Potter?” Laurence asked as they moved out of hearing range of Tonks and Hermione.  


“Fine, sir,” Harry said quickly. He didn’t want Laurence to think him over-sensitive; he’d already displayed far more vulnerability to the captain than he was comfortable with. 

Still, he wished there was someone who could understand what he was feeling—the overwhelming strangeness and relief, the feeling of his world both shattering and finally making sense. _I’m a wizard _. The revelation answered so many questions, and brought up even more.  
__

Their feet crunched on the gravel as they circled Temeraraire’s clearing. Laurence hummed a little to himself, and Harry wondered whether he knew he was doing it.  


“Sir,” he said at last, hesitantly, “what happens… now?”  


“Now that we know you’re a wizard?” Laurence frowned thoughtfully. “A good question. I haven’t had a wizard on my crew before, but I talked to Admiral Roland last night. You will continue with us as an ensign, but the Aurors will send a wizard to teach you magic, as well. You will be expected to keep up with your studies, whether we are at the covert or on a mission.”  


“Do you know… who the wizard will be, sir?”  


Laurence shook his head. “That’s for Admiral Roland and Gandalf the Grey to decide.”  


Harry nodded, thinking this over as they completed their circuit of the clearing. As they neared the others again, Temeraire swung his head up and cried, “Laurence! Do come here, quickly!”  


The captain lengthened his stride so that he was nearly running, and Harry did run to keep up with him. As they reached the dragon’s head, Laurence said anxiously, “What is it, Temeraire? Is something wrong?”  


“No, not at all.” Temeraire’s eyes were dilated with excitement, and his ruff stood straight up from his head. “Laurence, we are to have _two _wizards on our crew!”  
__

Laurence turned to Tonks and Hermione, to find the former grinning and the latter wearing an expression of complete shock. “Tonks?”  


“Hermione’s another wizard, Laurence,” said Tonks happily. “There’s no doubt about it!”  


The captain nodded, looking more thoughtful than excited. “Right. Well, we’ll have to inform your office that we’ll need a mentor for the two of them—”  


“No need, Laurence,” Tonks interrupted. “I’m attaching myself to your crew, so I can keep an eye on the pair of them.”  


Laurence looked affronted. “Excuse me?”  


“I was planning on joining Lily’s formation anyway,” Tonks said with a shrug. “It’ll be far easier to look after Harry and Hermione if I’m with Temeraire, so…”  


“I had assumed that the Admiralty would choose someone,” said Laurence stiffly.  


“The Admiralty already assigned me to your covert, and I already told them I would join Lily’s formation.” Tonks spoke slowly, as though to a simpleton. “You’re the one with two underage wizards on your crew, so obviously, it makes sense for me to be on it too.”  


There was a long pause. For a moment, Harry thought that Laurence was going to explode. He backed a couple of steps away, just in case.  


Temeraire seemed to sense the tension too, for he put his head down and said quickly, “I do think it would be very nice to fight with Tonks again, Laurence. And it will be a great honor to have _three _wizards in my crew. Why, even Excidium only has one!”  
__

Another moment of silence; then Laurence suddenly laughed. “Very well, I find myself outmaneuvered,” he said. “Auror Tonks, welcome to my crew. We shall have to discuss our chain of command, of course. I would not like to offend Lieutenant Granby.”  


“Of course!” Tonks bounced on the balls of her feet. “I’m sure we shall all get along like puffskeins in a carpet.”  


Laurence looked blank. “Er… I’m sure we shall,” he said cautiously.  


Harry glanced over at Hermione, and saw the same mixture of euphoria, nervousness, and bewilderment that he was feeling. This was certainly going to be interesting.


End file.
